And Baby makes three
by SuranneKeeleyBeauchamp
Summary: Follow on from see you in my dreams, how Connie and Michael both cope with the changes in their lives


**Follow on from I'll see you in my dreams darling. Connie and Michael and how they cope with the many changes in their lives**

**Connie**

I sit in the arm chair, exhaustion filling every part of my body, my head weary, my eyes drooping, but I cannot stand to shut them, for the sight in front of me is too beautiful to even comprehend. A Father and his new-born. Michael is standing in the window of the lounge, rocking our beautiful little girl from side to side in his arms, whispering to her softly, watching the traffic go past on the road outside. He too is exhausted, but will carry on until our daughter is peaceful once again. He turns around slightly and smiles at me, catching me looking on fondly. He tells me I should go to bed, get some rest, but I am adamant that I want to remain where I am, watching him and our child, for I believe no other sight is quite as breath taking.

We have only been back from the hospital a matter of hours, but Michael has everything sorted. He bribed the cleaner to make up a meal for when I got back, and has since not allowed me to move from the chair I first collapsed into. In the last few months Michael has been my rock, supporting me both through my pregnancy, and the aftermath of my overdose. He has cut down dramatically on his hours, and is now often found sitting in my office at the hospital waiting to take me home to beans on toast and a film. He stuck to his promises, and on several occasions made late night trips to the local Tesco's because I was craving donughts or pickles. He even spent hours after work decorating the nursery and turning into a princess' haven. At my lowest, I didn't see this moment at all, I saw it as the end, how wrong I had been.

I am snapped out of my daydreams by Michael's voice, he is singing to our daughter, so softly in a way that he did when I was at my worst all those months back. He would cradle me in bed singing gentle songs to me, and wiping away my tears as soon as they appeared. He held my hair back from my face when the morning sickness struck, and brought me chewing gum for when it came on at work and had a constant stream of wet flannels to cool me down. On some occasions, once again at my worst, he would stitch up the cuts on my arm, and press his lips gently against them, not saying a word, but just being there was enough. The scars will be there for life, but in my opinion they just show how far we have come together, how much we have both changed and come together as one.

_'You want Mummy do you princess?'_

I smile as my husband approaches me, sitting down on the arm of the chair and placing our daughter into my arms. She is still restless, but as soon as her eyes clap on the both of us staring down fondly at her, her grizzles stop and her eyes start to close. Reassurance. Most like me.

_'Any thoughts on a name?'_

'_Zara, it means princess in Hebrew'_

_'Zara Beauchamp, it has a ring to it Con'_

We both gazed down at our little miracle, knowing that she was going to be treated like a princess. Hours later Michael came up with the middle name Amelia, after many hours of googling names with meaning of miracle. Fitting, our princess who also happens to be a miracle.

* * *

**Michael**

When we brought my beautiful daughter for the first time, I knew it was the start of something special, something which will make me and Connie grow into new people, the people that our daughter will rely on until she is old enough to stand on her own two feet and take the world by storm, much like her Mother.

Connie.

My darling Connie, I have found myself staring down at my beautiful wife who is curled up in bed, barely visible because she has shifted the duvet over her eyes so the sun doesn't wake her. She is probably the bravest woman I have ever met, and yes it has been a hard few months, both with the pregnancy and Connie's mental state, but we have got through it, and built ourselves stronger. The scars on Connie's arms are our reminder of how far we have come, to be able to laze in bed and say were parents, to be able to smile every time Zara smiled or wrapped her hand around a finger. Zara has changed Connie, made her much more loving and tender towards people and she is more aware of how hard the women she works with have worked to get where they are with kids to care for.

_'Stop staring at me'_

She is partly awake, and although her eyes are not open, she can still sense me staring down at her. She has some seventh sense for things like that, always able to tell when someone is about to walk into a room she is occupying, or when someone is looking at her behind her back. She knows everything, and when she is at home she is no different. Zara has been home now for three weeks and Connie can tell when she is about to cry, she will just sit up bolt right and move to the cradle where our precious cargo lies. She is doing it now actually, and her eyes are open and aware. She climbs from the bed and makes it to the cot just as Zara starts to wail for attention. Straight away she knows what's wrong and is ushering me from the room to warm up some milk and a towel. As I move down the stairs and can hear Connie singing softly, and I honestly feel as though my stone heart has melted and that nothing could ever be as perfect as our life now.

If someone had told me a year ago that I would feel like this again, like I've fallen in love all over again, with my wife, I would not have believed it, but now, I could not imagine not being in love with my Constance. I have started to appreciate everything she has done for me over the years, and how much she wants an us and not just her.

Some days I wake up and groan at the idea of going to work, when all I want to do is sit at home with my wife and daughter, just curled up on the sofa with a hot drink, chocolate and daytime TV, because they are my sole purpose in life, and I am no longer afraid to admit it. My desk at the hospital is now adorned with pictures of my family, myself, my wife and our daughter is centre piece on my office wall, with a photo of Connie and our wedding day stationed on my desk, so whenever I feel like giving up and packing it all in, I have my two girls to look at and spur me on. Never will life be as perfect as it is now.


End file.
